
diss "P S .^ 5 2 9 

PUhSHXTHU i5Y | '^ I *T 



CELTIC MEMORIES 



CELTIC MEMORIES 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 

NORREYS JEPHSON O'CONOR 



NEW YORK 

JOHN LANE COMPANY 
1914 






TO 
CATIILEEN NI HOULIHAN 

4AN i0^9^* 



Oh ^ for the charm of her , 
Subtle and strange ! 
Tang of the ocean^ 
Scent of the field; 
Blush of the rosebud^ 
Grace of the tree ; 
Dusk on the moorland^ 
Gentle and grey ; 
Call of the curlew^ 
Aloft and alone — 
Oil, for the charm of her ^ 
Calling 7Jie home / 



' CONTENTS 

CELTIC MEMORIES iace 

The Exile 9 

The Rising of the Moon . . . . . ii 

Saint Patrick 15 

King Muiredach ...... 16 

From the Monastery Door. . . . . 18 

From Kerry 19 

Dedication . . . . . . . . • 21 

At Hollybrooke 22 

The Emigrant 23 

Who? 25 

The Wanderer 26 

SONNETS TO EVA 

For a Book 28 

The Dream City 29 

To Eva in -Paradise 30 

Pearl 31 

Kari^ol 32 



Vlll 



CONTENTS 



OTHER POEMS 
The Land of Fancy . 
William Wordsworth 
My Garden 
At Twilight 
A la plus belle 
The Lonely Road 
Come Back . 
On Hearing of a Friend's Engagement 
My Gift 
Easter 
A Valentine 
At Night . 
My Prayer. 
Heart's Garden 
The Vision . 
Revelation. 
The Concert 
konigskinder 
On a Line by Henry King 
Morning Moonrise 
A Petition to God the Father 
Love the Guid 
To One Who Complained of th 

her Face. 
With a copy of "The Price of 
Out of the West 
The Record 



Lis 



E Wi 
Doris 



in 



The Exile 

Tiagam tar muir medraig moill 
(Let us go over the murmuring, placid sea) 

The Chase of Sid na mBan Finn 

Let us go over the murmuring sea, 

Away from the jarring world, 
Back to the peace of the Irish hills, 

In the mists of morning curled. 

Let us hark to the song of the fairy folk 

In a moonlit glen at eve, 
And the half-heard patter of fairy feet 

While their intricate dance they weave. 

Hark to the baying of sweet-mouthed hounds, 

As the Fian host sweeps by, 
Chasing the boar with bristling back, 

For Failbe's death to die. 

Before me stretches the dancing sea, 

Far out to the Irish shore. 
And my heart would follow a gull I watched 

Till I could see no more. 
9 



THE EXILE 

My heart would fly to a house that stands 
By the bay of Cushendun, 

And would wait on the ledge of a window there- 
May the casement open soon ! 

My lady would take my heart in her hands, 

As a young bird weak of wing, 
And bending low her lovely head. 

Whisper its comforting. 

My heart would sing its song of joy, 

Filling the world with tune ; 
And my lady would smile, and say perhaps : 

" Pray God he cometh soon ! " 



lO 



The Rising of the Moon 

Come climb the top of Carintoul, 

On Samain Eve with me ; 
When Caragh Lake hes dark and still, 

And stars shine frostily. 

The leafless trees like Druids stand, 
Wrapped in the robes of night ; 

Guarding the lore of ancient days 
From our dull human sight. 

A bank of clouds hangs in the sky, 
Where the new moon should be ; 

And from the west the night breeze brings 
The salt smell of the sea. 

Northward I look, toward the land 

Of mighty Conchobar ; 
Where Emain reared its stately walls, 

Home of the great in war. 
II 



THE RISING OF THE MOON 

E'en as I look a beam of light 
Crosses the darken'd sky, 

And like a blazing beacon burns 
Brightly and steadily. 



In this clear glow I see again, 
'Round Emain's spacious hall. 

The ancient Red Branch chivalry 
The warrior and the thrall. 



The great king sits upon his throne, 

Cuchulain at his knee ; 
And 'mid a silence grave, profound. 

The minstrel sings his glee. 

He sings a song of plaintive note, 

Of a lost land far away, 
Wherein a hundred weary years 

Seem but a happy day. 

The meadows there are ever green, 
And the angry wind-toss'd sea. 

That lies beyond the headlands far, 
Another flow'ring lea. 

12 



THE RISING OF THE MOON 

There mortal knights are sometimes led 

By damsels passing fair ; 
And through a fairy's love gain strength 

Their mortal ills to bear. 



Now yet again the minstrel sings 

The valiant deeds of war ; 
And faint I hear the clash of arms, 

And a mighty muffl'd roar 

Arising from five hundred throats, 

As the picture fades away ; 
And the murky sky returns again, 

As dark succeeds the day. 

O Erin ! could this latter time 

Call forth a warrior band. 
Valiant of heart as those I saw, 

And, like them, strong of hand. 

Where are the scholars, where the saints 
Whom monarchs sought of old ? 

And is that mighty flame of love 
That burn'd for thee, grown cold ? 
J3 



THE RISING OF THE MOON 

Where now the minstrel, where the bard, 

Thy falt'ring sons to lead 
Back to the happy other world, 

To gain the strength they need ? 

Such now my thought, as sad 1 turn 

To make my slow descent ; 
But as I turn, I see the sky, 

And the bank of clouds is rent. 

At the sight I see my heart is glad, 

And sings a merry tune : 
From out the clouds ; across the lake^ 

The rising of the moon. 



14 



Saint Patrick 

In Erin lives an ancient legend still, 
Of holy Patrick on the hill of Slane, 
On Easter Even, when he came again 

For service due to work his Master's will ; 

And lit the Paschal fire, so soon to fill 
All Erin with its light, and tell the pain 
Of our Lord's death ; by which we too may gain 

His triumph over our last earthly ill. 

How burns the beacon which that Easter Eve 
Saint Patrick kindled ? Is his faith supreme, 

And the great Church he laboured long to leave 
In the dear isle of which I fondly dream ? 

I saw to-day a legate sent from Rome — 

Does that dead city rule Saint Patrick's home ? 



15 



King Muiredach 

Oroit do Muiredach 
(A prayer for Muiredach) 

Inscription 07i the Cross oj Muiredach, 
Monasterhoice 

Pray for King Muiredach, chieftain and priest ; 
King on the battlefield, king at the feast. 

Great were the deeds of him, gracious to all \ 
Many the knives he greas'd, seated in hall. 

Deep were the pools of ale ; loud was the praise 
Shouted by stalwart men, sung in brave lays. 

Doughty the deeds of him, first in the fray. 
Flashing the Blood Drinker, sullen and grey. 

Rock of the battlefield, dash'd he aside 
Waves of the foemen that clung to his side. 

Swift flew his chariot, racing the wind : 
Woe to the laggards 'twas leaving behind ! 
i6 



KING MUIREDACH 

Three waves of Erin cried his distress 
On the red evening he fell in the press. 

Keen the King, priests of fair Monasterboice ! 
Dead lies the sov'reign of green Erin's choice. 

Dim grow, the altar lights. Lo ! it is day. 
Pray for the soul of him ; priests of God, pray ! 



17 



From the Monastery Door 

Give me a house where I may see the hills, 
And past the hills a strip of dark blue sea ; 
And then a happy bird who sings to me 

Of earth forgotten with its mortal ills. 

This is God's book ; where His blest spirit fills 
Rocks, rivers, mountains, and the spreading tree 
Beneath whose boughs I sit and watch the bee, 

Through the still garden darting as he wills. 

This is the page here given us to read ; 

That we may know the worthless world we made. 
Through the calm loveliness that God has laid 

On the dumb things that we so little heed. 

So will I trust my Father, loving, wise, 

Who for this world will give me Paradise. 



i8 



From Kerry 

I HEARD the lilt of my young love's song, 

As he went down the lane ; 
And I wonder'd as I heard him go, 

" Will he come back again ? " 

'Tis he will dance with ladies gay, 

The finest man of all ; 
And he'll forget the roadside dance, 

And Kerry in the fall. 

I heard the call of a lone wild goose. 

In her flight toward the sea. 
" Ah, take my love a thought of home, 

And bring him back to me ! " 

The mist rolls in from the silent hills, 
And the smell of peat is strong ; 

The kine are gather'd for the night— 
The twilight hour is long ! 

The lights are lit ; the stars are out ; 

The evening air is cool ; 
And far away, a dull, dark mass. 

The peak of Carintoul. 

19 c 2 



FROM KERRY 

" And yet, perchance, he'll not forget," 

Is what yon star would say. 
He will unlatch the garden gate — 

The years are yesterday. 

'Tis then the mourning gulls shall scream. 

And wheel, a flash of white, 
Up, up, towards the new-found sun. 

That bathes them in his light. 

The hills will look a strip of green, 

The bay a streak of blue ; 
For when my love comes home again. 

It will be springtime too. 

But now the night is come at last. 

The world is dark and cold. 
Ah, would my love were by my side, 

When all the world grows old ! 



20 



Dedication 

Ev'n as lord Tristram went across the sea, 
Seeking the learning of the Irish land 
To heal the grievous wound that Morolt's hand 

Had giv'n, through the dread queen's sorcery ; 

Ev'n as Iseult, the wondrous bride-to-be, 
Rapt him away to Love's bright Fairyland ; 
Raised him to meet God's love, and understand 

Man's swift obedience to Love's mastery : 

Came I to Erin, pledg'd Love's faithful knight ; 

Not wounded yet but with the pain of bliss, 
Engender'd by the thought of her whose sight 

Inspires my pen to tell her name in this. 
Lady ! grant me but leave to sing the praise 
Love asks of all on whom your eyes may gaze. 



21 



At Hollybrooke 



Where in the wonder of the Wicklow hills 

Dwells there a maiden dressed in garments green, 
Whose fairy loveliness no man has seen, 

Save when the moon the silent valley fills ? 

Joining their music to the bird who trills 
For fairy dancing, the dim branches lean 
Like minstrels paying homage to a queen, 

Eager to serve her in whate'er she wills. 

< 

Thus have I come to pay my service due 
To her whose image lives within my heart. 
Fairer, through Fancy, than its counterpart 

In mortal guise. Such was my thought till you, 

Dear Cousin, on my waiting vision came : 

A fairy figure with a mortal's name. 



22 



The Emigrant 

I CAN see you now, Mavourneen, 
Just beside your cabin door ; 

And you wave your hand, Mavourneen, 
As you've often done before. 

See the weary sun, Mavourneen, 
How he's sinking in the west ; 

And the evening sky behind you, 
In a thousand colours drest. 

I am coming home, Mavourneen, 
For the long day's work is done ; 

And the birds are flying homeward. 
Calling softly, one by one. 

You will lay your hands, Mavourneen, 

- On my shoulders, and will say : 
" Let me lift the burden, dear one ; 
'Tis the night gives rest to day." 
23 



THE EMIGRANT 

And your long black hair, Mavourneen, 
Will fall gently 'round my face ; 

And I'll think that death has found me 
In the bliss of your embrace. 

'Tis the call of home, Mavourneen, 

'Mid the clang of city cars, 
And the gaunt, grey office buildings 

That have long shut out the stars. 

I can see you now, Mavourneen, 
Just beside your cabin door. 

'Tis the good God knows, Mavourneen, 
If I'll ever see you more. 



24 



Who? 

The Lady who loves me, 
Where does she Hve ? 
Over the ocean, 
Over the hill ; 
Queen of a palace, 
Light of a mill. 
The Lady who loves me. 
What joy does she give ! 

The Lady who loves me. 
What is her grace ? 
Whiteness of moonbeams 
Where fairies are found ; 
Branch of the rowan 
When blossoms abound. 
The Lady who loves me. 
The sky is her face. 

The Lady who loves me, 
What is her name ? 
The wind in the tree-tops. 
The shine of the sea. 
Betoken a beauty 
Less lovely than she. 
The Lady who loves me— 
I've mention'd her name. 
25 



The Wanderer 

I HAVE heard the bugles blowing 
The " Retreat " across the plain, 

And the snow-clad mountains echo 
The sad signal twice again. 

I have seen the red sun sinking 
To an Indian river's breast ; 

While I heard the lap of water, 
And I watched the boats at rest. 

I have heard the breeze at evening 
Stir the palms above my head, 

While a caravan wound slowly 
Past a sky of flaming red. 

I have seen the young girls walking 
Down an English village lane^ 

With their lover's arm around them, 
While the world grew young again. 
26 



THE WANDERER 

I have heard the darkies singing, 
As the sun dropped out of sight, 

While through the cabin windows 
Came a cheerful yellow light. 

But the Irish hills at evening 
. Are the fairest sight I've seen ; 
And a li-ttle white-walled cottage 
Where there waits a glad colleen. 



27 



For a Book 

A MONK once laboured in a lonely cell, 

Gilding the pages of a missal rare, 

And those who passed looked in to see him there, 
His hps soft smiling, and a light that fell 
Glorious about his head ; and one would tell : 

" Here sits he all the day and will not spare 

Himself for weariness, but his look will bear 
Such peace as in God's face alone may dwell." 

Lady, I give thee this and ask thee here 
To read these pages in the light that made 

The monk smile always, and his task, each year 
Grow lighter and his soul more unafraid ; 
Love had its wonder on his spirit laid ; 

And in that vision's brightness all was dear. 



28 



The Dream City 



I GAZED at you and saw your eyes were sad, 

And in that sadness I, too, had a share ; 
But your hand crept near mme, and then how glad 

Was I, in turn, that you had placed it there : 
For we together wandered through the world. 

Amid its darkness we alone could see 
The path which, 'round a rocky hillside curled, 

Led to the city where our dreams would be. 
Sombre those walls, like shadows of the night, 

And 'round the turrets ever-changing haze i 
Within the streets the sad of heart are bright ; 

Love is the stipend paid for happy days. 
Still stands the city, and the sunset glow 
Shall lead us thither by the path we know. 



29 



To Eva in Paradise 

I GAVE you all my heart so long ago 

I have forgotten when the gift was made, 
Receiving part of yours, that I might know 

How great a portion in my hands was laid. 
Each morn I leave the ready task of life. 

And seek the corner where your heart, enshrined, 
Lends peace which, with a thousand colours rife, 

Fills every chamber of my eager mind. 
Lady, I look to you as men of old 

Looked to their Virgin, and like them I pray : 
" Lead me but upward ; give me grace to hold 

Fast to the spirit and escape the clay," 
Your heart, perchance, some day all mine will be. 

^Vhy should I ask ? Enough is granted me. 



30 



Pearl 

(For the old English poem of that name) 

Were I a diver of the Orient, 

I'd win you pearls such as no queen has worn ; 
Deeming to match your worth no ornament 

Save these, in the pure depths of ocean born : 
Were I a merchant, whose unnumbered fleet 

Brought rarest spices, silks and rich perfumes, 
I'd lay these treasures, also, at your feet. 

To greet that gendeness which Love assumes. 
I have a gift more precious far than these. 

That none can steal, from which I will not part- 
Read then this Vision, and therein find ease, 

From contemplation of the human heart. 
This is my Pearl ; ask not its worth of me : 

You hold my heart ; turn there if you would see. 



31 



Kardol 

Like Tristram desolate by a sunlit sea, 

I wait for you, Beloved, and I stand 

Gazing forever toward a foreign land, 
Where you sojourn and where I cannot be ; 
But here the waters sparkle joyfully 

And, heartsick, I desire God's almighty hand. 

That I may cross the ocean, as that band 
Which walked dryshod to life and victory. 
You wander in old cities, still and grey. 

And with the hum of summer, or the breath 
Of spring, or thin-toned bells at close of day. 

Perchance the thought of me will come, like Death, 
To sink into your soul, and take away 

Something of you, to show that you keep faith. 



32 



The Land of Fancy 

To John Hall Wheelock 

You taught me, Friend, to love the gift of song, 

And led my steps through Fancy's dim-hued land, 

Fairer than that fair canvas Watteau's hand 

Has sketch'd ; where a gay-coloured, laughing throng. 

On Cytherea's island moves among 

The leafy trees, in stately saraband 

Or measured minuet, while lovers stand 

Beside their lov'd ones ; for Love's day is long. 

How much more rare the realm that you have shown : 

Damsels more lovely, and more shelt'ring trees ; 

And softer music, borne upon a breeze 

Gentler than fairy fingers laid upon 

The cheek, when Day from Evening's path has flown — 

These beauties, by your guidance, I have known. 



33 



William Wordsworth 

Enraptured singer of the glorious earth, 

The cloud-capped mountain and the flowery lea, 
The shining streamlet and the moonlit sea ; 
The thousand wonders of great Nature's birth : 
That which I find of most enduring worth, 
Ringing adown time's paths eternally, 
As some clear curfew bell is borne to me. 
When gentle evening stills the noise of earth ; 

Is thy clear summons to the soul of man 
To turn to Nature, and in her behold 

The mystic symbols of God's loving plan 
To lead us safely to His heavenly fold. 
Where we may share the peace that Nature shows 
In each green pasture and new-budding rose. 



34 



My Garden 



I v/ALKED within my garden plot, 
Where loveHest flow'rs abound ; 

The lazy sun was still abed, 
My plants in slumber sound. 

But soon the blossoms raised their heads 
And danced in childish glee. 

Startled, I look'd towards the sun. 
And found no sun but thee ! 



35 D 2 



At Twilight 



Ashes of dead love and dead desire : 
The silent room, the crackling fire — 

Could you forget, could you forget ? 

Speechless we sat, your eyes downcast ; 
And, though we had the happy past, 

Your eyes were wet, your eyes were wet. 

Perchance you felt the future days. 
Which brought the sund'ring of our ways— 
But we had met, but we had met. 

O happy days ! glad Memory brings 
Remembrance of forgotten things — 
Be with us yet, be with us yet. 



36 



A la plus belle 

Chanson d'aa-iour, 
Chanson de jeunessc. 
Luit le printemps 
D'eternelle ivresse. 

Chanson de deuil. 
Chanson de vieillesse 
Aux mains de Dieu 
Nouvelle tendresse. 



37 



The Lonely Road 

I WALKED along a lonely road, 

O'er many a tedious hill ; 
While all around me stretch'd a world, 

Dark, desolate, and still. 

Weary and sad of heart I trudged ; 

The harsh ground hurt my feet : 
I was anhunger'd, yet I saw 

No place to sit and eat. 

I walked along a lonely road. 
Through many an humble town. 

Where men and maids danced on the green 
To win a rustic crown. 

The broken road led on and up 

Across a mountain pass : 
I came into a shady glen, 

And sat me on the grass. 

I walked along a lonely road ; 

A figure came in sight, 
Which nearer drew, and soon became 

A maiden dressed in white. 

38 



THE LONELY ROAD 

I struggled on ; my set eyes burned : 
The maiden still drew near. 

Her eyes were kind, her voice was like 
The running streamlet clear. 

I walked along a lonely road, 
The maiden's hand in mine ; 

While all around, the dull grey world 
Glowed in the bright sunshine. 

No longer lonely was the road, 

Nor sad of heart was I ; 
For at the last, my love beside, 

I'll sleep beneath the sky. 



39 



Come Back 

Come back ! you have been long away ; 

'Tis almost sunset, and the dimming light 
Makes the three islands seem so far away 

'Neath the grey wings of the approaching niglit. 

'Tis almost dark. I hear your voice, 

And all the sadness from my tortur'd heart 

Is gone ; as when at dawn a bird's glad voice 
Makes the long-ling'ring night in haste depart. 



4c 



On Hearing of a friend's 
Engagement 

''Blight star, would I were steadfast as thou art " 

May I now sing the praise of her who shines 
Ev'n as a star in the blue dome of night; 
Lighting the heavens with a lustrous light 

Everlastingly, till the dim dark decHnes. 

As the subhmity of God's designs 

Never is shown to our poor mortal sight, 
Only by faith may we suspect how bright 

Rises elsewhere the star our night defines. 

Come and shine on me once again, my Star ! 
Radiant in beauty ; thy presence grant me peace, 
Or else thine absence faith to know thy rays 

Shine on another, granting him release 
Beyond this dizzy world ; and all his days 
Youth, and the love that links the near and far. 



41 



My Gift 

" L' amor die move il sole e 1' altre stelle " 

Three kings their gifts before the Christ Child laid 

And knelt in homage to the world's dear king ; 
While all the angels, in bright ranks arrayed, 

Their splendour lent to grace the offering. 
Gold, myrrh, frankincense, were the gifts thus brought 

By puissant princes of a time outgrown, 
To that Immortal Son, who to us taught 

The power almighty ruling Heaven's throne. 
No gifts have I that royal donors bear : 

Gold in rare patterns, gems of priceless worth ; 
Yet to your loveliness a gift more rare, 

Even the jewel which Christ gave to earth. 
Thus, Lady, may this sonnet sing to thee 
Of Love that is, and at all times shall be. 



42 



Easter 

The years are passing, and with Time comes change 
The rising of the tide Eternity 
Covers our Hves, as on a beach the sea 

Makes the famihar places new and strange. 

This is the spring, and the cloud-dappl'd skies 
Gleam with the sunshine ; and the lusty breeze 
Blows, joyous, through the newly-budding trees, 

And with the birds our waken'd spirits rise. 

The season passes, and the summer days 

With their soft warmth, and languid, perfum'd air. 
Give place to winter; when the branches bare 

Sigh with the cold, and the glad Yule-logs blaze. 

So with our lives ; to us come days of pain, 
When we must cry against the bitter world, 
Forgetting the dim hills, in mist close curl'd. 

And the fresh springtime on the flow'ring plain. 
43 



EASTER 

When you have reached this sad and weary time, 
Dear Friend, forget me not ; nor this glad spring. 
When, by the wind-swept river wandering. 

We talked together of the joys of rhyme. 

Open this book, when you have thought of me, 
And, reading there, perchance the present pain 
Will be assuaged, and you will smile again 

For the swift heaUng of a memory. 

Yet if we meet not in the passing years. 

We hold God's promise of a bright to-morrow ; 
When we receive His gift of joy for sorrow. 

And, meeting one another, smile through tears. 



44 



A Valentine 

Love is no rosy boy, 
Young and uncouth ; 

Dark skinn'd, dark ey'd is he, 
In very truth. 

Ah, Love, thou naughty boy ! 

Bleeding from many wounds, 

On thee I wait. 
Now heal my hurts, or else 

Death seals my fate 



45 



At Night 

Many the stars that come, 

In haste to keep 
Safely my Lady fair, 

Sound in her sleep. 

Ah, happy stars ! 

Lend me your place awhile ; 
Let me but stay 

Enraptur'd through the night- 
Night without day ! 



46 



My Prayer 



Send down upon me once again Thy grace, 

God ! Teach me to mortify the clay. 
And lead me onward by the heavy way 

That comes at length to the most perfect place 
Where Thou art thron'd, while saints themselves 
abase ; 
Guiding the passage of each toilsome day, 
Knowing the sorrows whose relief we pray, 
Holding all joy in Thy calm, shining face. 

Lord, as the cripple v/ho once heard Thy voice,- 

1 would beseech Thee come and say to me : 
" Rise ! thine infirmity put off; rejoice ! 

There is no sin I may not purge from thee." 
Thou hast the soul ; now let the body be 
Again the subject of Thy loving choice 



47 



Fleart's Garden 

I HAVE a garden fill'd with many flowers : 
The mignonette, the sweet pea and the rose ; 
Daisies and daffodils, whose colour glows 

The fairer for the verdure which embowers 

Their beauty, and sets forth their hidden powers 
To charm my heart, whenever at the close 
Of day's dull hurry, I would seek repose 

In my still garden in the dark'ning hours. 

Thus, Lady, do I keep a place apart, 

Wherein my love for you cloister'd shall be, 

Far from the rattle of the city cart ; 

Ev'n as my garden ; where daily I may see 
The flowers of your love, and none from me 

May win the hidden secret of my heart. 



48 



The Vision 

I STOOD before the gates of Sin, 

And watched the motley, laughing throng 
Press eagerly to enter in ; 

And as I went to do her wrong, 
I saw her face. 

I buffeted the storm of Pain, 
And nowhere found I any rest ; 

Yet when I thought to seek the main 
Upon the foaming river's breast, 
I saw her face. 

O unforgotten sight ! that clears 
The murky mist of mortal strife ; 

God grant that when my spirit nears 
The morning of immortal life, 
I see her face ! 



49 



Revelation 

O TIME of rapture, time when first I knew 
Of thy soft radiance shed athwart my night, 
My lovely Star, which makest all things bright ; 

The murky false lit by the shining true ! 

Clear were the valleys which I then passed through, 
Led by the brilliance of thy steady light. 
To reach the peak whence I could gain a sight 

Of the fair land toward which my footsteps drew. 

Kind Star, come down to earth, again to prove — 
As Christ once proved of our weak mortal state, 

When thy bright harbinger in splendour stood 
Above the cradle where great kings did wait. 

In wond'ring worship of God's flesh and blood — • 
Mankind is naught without Immortal Love. 



50 



The Concert 

O MUSIC, when the Hght grows dim, 

Sing thou the praises of my love to me ! 

O Sun, hid by the mountain's rim, 
Bring me a message of Eternity ! 

Love is but longing ; 

So sing the strings : 
Man is aspiring 

To higher things. 

Night falls : the spent day quickly dies ; 

The music sounds a perfect final close. ' 
O Love ! Nature now sleeping lies, 

As we shall sleep, calm in our last repose. 



51 E 2 



Konigskinder 

(Suggested by Humperdinck's opera) 

As that young prince who saw his crowned queen, 
Come through the meadows on a springtide morn, 
To gladden with her grace his heart forlorn, 

And lead his soul to infinite things unseen : 

Or as, amid harsh winter's lonely sheen. 

The world about them with dumb anguish torn. 
The twain return'd ; she by her lover borne. 

In that white world a bright branch, blossoming, 
green. 

Thus, Lady, do I wait the time when you 

Shall burst upon my sight one summer day ; 

Teaching my lips what my dumb heart would say, 
The silver message of my service true ; 

Of love wherein the wondering world may be 

Partaker of love's immortality. 



^2 



On a Line by Henry King 

^' Till we shall meet and never part." 

What words more truly tell my hope than these ? 

The gentle freshness of the summer breeze, 
The lovely fragrance of a field of flowers, 
The rapid passing of unnumber'd hours — 
These are the spokesmen of my eager heart. 

Yes, we shall meet and never part. 

Ah, Love ! when shall this happy meeting be — 
By the broad bosom of this dull gray sea, 
The restless humming of the city street, 
Or at the last, when our weak, weary feet 
Shall do the bidding of a joyful heart? 



53 



Morning Moonrise 

O GENTLE Moon ! thy limpid light, 
With more than lover's constancy, 
Shall guard the bed whereon I lie, 

From all the terrors of the night. 

No beast shall come, nor goblin bold, 

To fright my mind with dreams of dread ; 
But laughing fairies 'round my bed 

Shall sing me plaintive songs and old. 

To see thy silver Self appear. 

And slowly climb across the dark. 
Why should the angry watch-dog bark ? 

O gracious Moon, shine clear, shine clear ! 



54 



A Petition to God the Father 

If I may know the perfect truth, 
The simple innocence of youth, 
Which, like a garment laid away, 
I have forgot full many a day : 
Ah, if I may ! 

If I may know the present pain 
Is harbinger of joy again ; 
As this white winter covering 
Is but the outer cloak of spring. 

If I may know the Church of God 
Was made for me, poor, worthless clod ; 
That I am brother to God's Son, 
Blest by His Spirit, Three in One. 

If I may know that pride of birth 
Has riven nations of the earth. 
And [prostitute and beggar are 
My long-lost brethren from afar. 
55 



A PETITION TO GOD THE FATHER 

If I may know that lust of gold 
Was his who once my Saviour sold ; 
And those who buy and sell to-day 
Would have me bid my soul away. 

If I may know my fellow men 
Will dub my hopes but " Dreams again ! " 
For they, perchance, will never see 
The universal harmony. 

Then I may kneel before my Lord, 
And say : " I know the world's reward ; 
But I have seen Thy light. Take me ! 
My life that some few blind may see ! " 
Ah, if I may ! 



56 



Love the Guide 

Love led my steps through many tortuous ways : 

Through city streets where Love walked close to 
Sin; 

And past bleak buildings where men toil to win 
Their daily bread through years of endless days. 
Love's eyes were laughing when I met his gaze ; 

Yet still I follow'd, ever out and in, 

From the confusion of the city's din 
To the dim lanes where Love with peasants plays. 

Love came at length to the low-ceiling'd room 
In which you sat, one cold October eve, 
And left me ; but before Love took his leave, 
I saw him from a roguish page become 
A radiant angel, from whose shining eyes 
I learned your presence was Love's paradise. 



57 



To One Who Complained of the 
Wind in her Face 

Rough Satyr Wind, forbear thy rude embrace ! 

From such uncouthness must my Lady flee. 

As that fair nymph who underneath the sea 
Sought from Alpheus a secluded place. 
Too eager art thou for my Lady's grace ; 

And yet, O Wind ! should I complain of thee ? 

If sight of God the joy of saints shall be, 
What bliss finds Nature in my Lady's face ! 

Hence ! sylvan creatures whom I sang before ; 
Hence ! each crude deity beneath whose form 
Lurks bestial man, as doth in flowers the worm. 

Teach me instead from Crestien's lovely lore, 

Or Gottfried's " Tristram," wherein Passion's storm 

Bursts not its bonds, yet glows for evermore. 



58 



With a Copy of '' The Price of 
Lis Doris " 

Here read the price once gladly paid by Lis, 
And learn the lesson that a love so slain, 
May, phoenix-like, in splendour rise again ; 

Devotion crowned with a lasting bliss. 

This is my prayer : at least a share of his 

Supreme surrender, that through years of pain, 
Steadfast in love and service I remain 

To be rewarded for the joy I miss. 

Grant me the grace, O God, this Christmas Eve 
To know a part of Thine immortal love ! 
That by this knowledge I at last may prove 

My worthiness my highest hope to leave. 
Or else — blest favour of the Lord above — • 

My highest hope from her dear hands receive. 



59 



Out of the West 



O TAKE me back to England ! 

Where the grass is growing green, 
And the trees bend low and v.hisper 

To the stream that flows between. 

There's a tall, grey college tower. 
And a cloud-deck'd summer sky ; 

And a flash of rippling sunshine 
Along the spires of the High. 

O take me back to England ! 

Where the bleating of the sheep, 
And the swish of leafy branches, 

Lull the tired mind to sleep. 

There's a broad and pleasant meadow 
By a sun-kiss'd classic stream, 

And a walk 'neath lofty tree-tops, 

Where the great have loved to dream. 
60 



OUT OF THE WEST 

take me back to England ! 
Where the roses now are blown, 

And a fresh-cheek'd girl is waiting 
For the man she's never known. 

1 have only seen the prairie, 

And the Rocky Mountain snows ; 
But my heart cries out for England 
In the month that brings the rose. 



6i 



The Record 

E'en as I write upon the frosted pane, 
And what I write is blotted out again ; 
So seem my faults, when my dear Lady tries 
To blot them out from all too curious eyes. 



62 



The thanks of the Atitho?' are due to the Editors of 
the Bellman, Smart Set and Book News Monthly, 
for permission to reprint verses that first appeared in 
their magazi7ies. 



LONDON : PRINTED BY WM. CLOV/ES AND SONS, LIMITED. 



